


the average foot speed of a corgi is ten miles per hour

by lotts (LottieAnna)



Category: BBC Radio 1 RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV) Fusion, Ensemble Shenanigans, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-05 14:07:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16812160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LottieAnna/pseuds/lotts
Summary: Louis blinks. “You do realize this is an awful idea.”Nick is very aware of that, actually.(In which Nick and Louis kiss each other, and degrees of professionalism vary.)





	the average foot speed of a corgi is ten miles per hour

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lounonymouse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lounonymouse/gifts).



> IF YOU FOUND THIS THROUGH GOOGLING, KNOW ANYONE MENTIONED IN THIS STORY PERSONALLY, OR ARE MENTIONED YOURSELF: please, please click away. This is a work of fiction and nothing written in this story is true. Any accurate information used in this story is publicly available information about public figures, the rest is made up, 100%. Please keep this work confined to fan spaces and away from the eyes of the people mentioned herein!
> 
> lounonymouse- this b99 prompt was incredible, and i loved writing in the voices of the characters on the show, in addition to putting a nick/louis spin on it. i hope i did your idea justice! sorry there's no doug judy, but hopefully the other cameos make up for it. thanks to rachel for the beta/britpick, and ang and maggie for the cheerleading! special shoutout to the mods for making this one of the smoothest exchange experiences i've ever had. you guys did a really exceptional job at being proactive and helpful. thank you so so much! 
> 
> based on the episode "Johnny and Dora," ft. many b99 characters (besides Jake and Amy) themselves and a bunch of 1d appearances as well.

Louis Tomlinson is acting weird.

This isn’t exactly breaking news. Louis Tomlinson is weird in general, but usually it’s a kind of weird that Nick can predict. His sleep cycle may be inconsistent and more or less horrifying, but at least it’s consistently so; Nick will probably never understand why Louis puts hot sauce on half the food he eats despite not actually liking spicy food all that much, but at least he knows it’s gonna happen every day at lunch, without fail.

Nick can handle cyclical weirdness, but Louis is acting weird even by Louis standards, fidgety and distracted in the boardroom during case assignments, which is the one place he’s almost never fidgety and distracted. Louis might be immature, and loud, and more or less a vaguely fascinating ball of overcompensation and undiagnosed attention issues, but damn if he doesn’t love his job, and love this part of it especially.

But today he’s acting weird, and Nick is a detective, which means he’s more or less a professional noticer. Of course he fucking notices.

“Detective Tomlinson, you and Detective Grimshaw will trail—” Captain Holt starts, but the sentence is barely out of his mouth before Louis’ eyes are going all wide and frantic, which is quite unnecessary, and frankly kind of bizarre to see during a relatively low-energy morning meeting.

“Oh, um, he can’t,” Louis says quickly. “Grimmy just— he has so much work to do, don’t you, mate?”

“I don’t, actually,” Nick says, more than a little confused.

“Really?” Louis says. “You sure about that? Because I could’ve sworn I heard you the other day talking to Detective Styles like, ‘Oh, the amount of work I have is just— it’s so much, such a lot, a large quantity of work.’”

Louis’ Nick impersonation comes off sounding more like Julie Andrews, which is another weird thing, because normally, Louis does a half-decent job with it. Not that Nick would ever tell Louis, but still.

“You really think I said that? In those words?”

“Yes, verbatim,” Louis says, in the stubborn kind of way that he does when he knows he’s not convincing anyone.

Nick turns to Captain Holt. “I’m fine to take the case,” he says. “Unless Louis’ got some reason he can’t work with m—”

“No, no reasons, none at all,” Louis says, which is the most transparent lie Nick’s ever heard, but dwelling on that isn’t really a priority right now, considering they’re trying to prevent large-scale identity theft.

But it is a priority eventually, because Nick and Louis have to stop large-scale identity theft together, and that may be difficult if Louis is acting weird, so after everyone’s disbanded and wandered back to their desks, Nick approaches Louis, kind of hesitant.

Louis’ got his nose buried in a file, flipping through the pages so fast that there’s no way he’s actually reading them, but he’s apparently absorbed enough in their content that he’s startled when Nick says, “Uh, Louis?”

“What?” Louis says, all frantic-eyed again for a second before he tries and fails to school his expression into something casual. “I mean, hey, hiya, hey there, ‘sup?”

Nick and Louis both apprehend criminals for a living. It’s almost offensive how obvious it is that Louis is lying right now.

“Did I do something?” Nick says, cutting right to the chase. “Because it seemed like you really didn’t want to work with me on the case, back there, ”

“No, it’s not— there’s no issue,” Louis says. “We can work together. We have to work together, it’s our job, and we do it together, so.” He gives a cheerful and unconvincing smile, accompanied by a thumbs up. “We’re great. We’re gonna kill it.”

“Alright,” Nick says, his voice as skeptical as he can manage, and it must work, because after a second, Louis’ face drops, and he looks down at his feet the way people do when they know they’ve been caught.

“Sorry,” Louis says, his voice considerably less chipper. “It’s just…” his voice trails off.

“It’s just?” Nick prompts.

Louis sighs, squares his shoulders, and lifts his head. He still doesn’t meet Nick’s eye, and bits of his hair are resting haphazardly on his forehead; he looks kind of like a child who’s shoplifted by accident, who knows he did something bad without trying and wants nothing more than to return the item, apologize, and move on.

It makes Nick’s heart do something funny, seeing Louis like that, or maybe it’s waiting for him to answer, because the suspense is killing him, now that he knows there actually is something wrong, and presumably something wrong with _him._

“You don’t date cops,” Louis says, and at first Nick thinks he’s imagined it, and he starts to wonder how his train of thought ended up at something so absurd before realizing that the words did, in fact, come from Louis’ mouth, which is now hanging a little open. His lips—and his cheeks—are very pink, which is very much _not_ a thought Nick needs to be having right now.

“I— what?” Nick says, sounding more breathless than he’d like.

“I heard you talking to Harry last week,” Louis says. “You told him you don’t date cops, right?”

Nick doesn’t remember that particular conversation—which is likely due to the fact that his brain isn’t exactly working at full capacity right now—but Louis is probably right. Truthfully, Nick doesn’t really date at all, because he loves his job and his friends and doesn’t really have room for anyone new to be in his life for more than a night at a time, and sometimes he barely has time to stick around until the morning. He’d learned pretty quickly that commitment issues and workplace romances are a combination he should probably avoid, because he’s best at his job when he gets along with his coworkers.

“Suppose I did,” Nick says.

Louis nods, cheeks going redder. “I get it,” he says, “But it’s just that— I was sort of thinking of asking you out, yeah? Or planning on it, really, and— I won’t now, obviously, but that’s why I didn’t wanna— y’know. Um. Yeah.”

Nick blinks. “Oh,” he says slowly. “I’m— uh, that’s—”

“You really don’t have to say anything,” Louis says, and for once, Nick shuts up.

What follows is the worst three seconds of awkward silence Nick has ever experienced, and he’s including the time Terry got halfway through a serious conversation with Harry and Nick about the decision to have children before Harry cut him off and let him know that he and Nick weren’t thinking about starting a family together, because they weren’t actually a married couple, or a couple at all, nor had they ever been, which is an interesting thing to have to explain to your coworker of five years.

Nick would’ve stopped the conversation himself, but he’d actually enjoyed hearing Terry’s insights into parenting.

“The whole point of not dating cops is to not let things get weird,” Nick finally says. “But now it’s still—”

“I know,” Louis says. “Look, it’s fine, just— we’re professionals, right? We can be professional about this.”

“Sure,” Nick says, his head spinning a little bit.

“Because, like, we’re good together,” Louis says, and then quickly adds, “On a case, I mean. We’re great colleagues.”

“Yes, we’re fine… business partners,” Nick says.

“Right,” Louis says. “So, uh— we’re good?”

 _You were going to ask me out,_ Nick thinks. _You were going to ask me out, but then you heard I’d say no, and now it’s hard to be around me._

That’s not an answer, though, so out loud, he says, “Yeah, we’re good.”

“Good,” Louis says, nodding, and Nick thinks, _You wanted to go on a date with me._

He knows there’s some larger implication to that—the fact that Louis wanted to date him, but can’t, and now Louis can’t look him in the eye anymore—but apparently Nick’s deductive reasoning skills don’t apply to cases involving Louis Tomlinson acting weird because of the date he didn’t ask Nick out on.

It’s just—

It’s weird.

It’s really, really, really fucking weird.

……

Thankfully—or not thankfully, Nick hasn’t quite decided yet—Liam and Zayn accompany Louis and Nick as they tail suspected identity thief Michael Augustine, which helps reduce the awkwardness, if only marginally. Liam talks a lot, which fills the space in the car, and Zayn mostly rolls his eyes and says just enough to egg him on, so Nick and Louis don’t actually have to engage in conversation unless it’s work related.

It’s all fine, until Augustine steps out of his car with a pretty woman who’s at least ten years younger than he is, and who, judging by the looks of her, has no idea that she’s on a date with a very successful identity thief whose briefcase contains a laptop carrying the social security numbers of hundreds of thousands of people.

The laptop is, theoretically, the focus of this whole operation, but Nick’s focus is mostly on Louis, and has been for the last 24 hours. In his defense, Louis was going to ask him out; Nick’s not sure how anyone could reasonably expect him to not fixate on that fact to the point of obsession.

Also, their suspect is apparently going to dinner with a beautiful young woman at a fancy restaurant, which means Louis and Nick are also going to dinner at said fancy restaurant, which isn’t helping anything.

“Do you have eyes on the—” Louis starts to ask, but then they’re inside the restaurant and standing directly behind their suspect. “The hostess? Ah, yes, there she is.” Louis flashes her a smile.

Augustine turns around and gives them a look of mild judgment, and Nick is so distracted by Louis’ smile that he forgets to be worried about being recognized as a police officer. Small perk, really.

“Hiya love, you wouldn’t happen to have a table for two, would you?” Nick asks.

“Do you have a reservation?” the hostess asks.

“I’m afraid not,” Louis says.

“I’m sorry, we’re completely booked up,” the hostess says, just as someone comes to show Augustine and his date to their apparently reserved table, and even though they’re in the most contained space imaginable, the sight of a suspect retreating triggers Nick’s act-fast-now detective instincts.

“What a shame,” Nick says, putting on a pout as he tangles his fingers with Louis’. He doesn’t let himself look at Louis’ face to see what his reaction is, barely lets himself read into the way Louis feels stiff at his side for a half-second too long before he manages to relax enough to hopefully make it look natural. “I was really hoping we could have our engagement dinner here. He just proposed, you see!” He tries to channel the excitement he usually sees in newly-engaged couples, and it mostly just feels forced, but he sticks with it anyway.

“I would’ve made a reservation, but I was so worried he’d say no,” Louis says.

“It’s so cute that you’d think that,” Nick says, pulling Louis in close, because that’s what newly-engaged couples do, he’s pretty sure, touch each other a lot and generally act insufferable.

He’s not sure what possesses him to press a kiss to Louis’ hair.

A part of it is because he’s really trying to sell it. If he and Louis had just gotten engaged, they’d have probably taken four times as long as they should to get to the restaurant, because they’d have been stopping every three steps to snog or look in each other’s eyes or do whatever it is couples do. Plus, if they were really together, they’d probably be used to kissing like this— innocent pecks, hellos and goodbyes and brief ‘I love you’ reminders, a small burst of affection every so often when they just couldn’t contain it.

But the thing is, if Nick and Louis were together, touching wouldn’t be frantically tugging at each other’s limbs. It’d be fitting together easily because they know they can, warm breath and close skin and always wanting to be closer, so that’s what Nick’s thinking about as he plants a kiss to Louis’ head. He imagines, for a second, knowing what Louis’ hair feels like, and how Louis’ shoulders fit under his hands, and if Louis is the type to pretend to be embarrassed by public displays of affection or if he just revels in them.

Louis’ face is carefully blank after the kiss, and Nick desperately wants to know what he would look like if they weren’t undercover, if they weren’t currently trying to weasel their way into a crowded restaurant on a Friday night by harnessing the power of fake-love. Nick’s suddenly very attuned to how it feels, standing this close to Louis, having the ability to hold his hand or kiss his head whenever he wants, the way that feels fragile, powerful, intimate—

Nick isn’t sure why he’s feeling so damn _much,_ considering all he’s done is kissed Louis’ head. It hadn’t even been a proper kiss, which means that whatever Nick’s heart is doing is unwarranted, and, quite frankly, kind of ridiculous.

“You two are sweet,” the hostess says, grinning a little as she grabs some menus. “You know what, I’m sure we can manage something.”

“Thank you so much,” Louis says, and Nick has to remind himself to be relieved because they get to continue to track their suspect and not for any other reason.

As they’re being lead to the table, Nick quietly says, “Sorry I sort of sprung the engagement on you.”

“No, no, it was good,” Louis says, even though he still looks a bit shell-shocked. “The kiss was a bit much, though, don’t you think?”

It’s a weird comment, like it’s trying to cover up its own hurt and confusion, and it falls just short of funny, but Nick is listening for anger or disgust, and he doesn’t hear it.

Which is notable, Nick thinks. Or, it’s notable enough that Nick notes it, at least, so— notable in the literal sense, at least.

Before he gets a chance to actually respond, though, they’re at their table, and Augustine is at the table next to them, and Nick’s mind is back on the case. 

“Oh my gosh!” Augustine’s date says. “You’re the couple that just got engaged, right?”

And just like that, it’s back to Louis.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah yeah yeah, yeah, yeah,” Louis says, sounding a little bit like he’s in pain. “That’s us, an engaged couple in love.”

“That is so sweet! Tell me, when did you guys meet?”

“Five years ago,” Nick says, at the same time Louis says, “Bout a year ago.”

They share a look, and Nick tries to silently communicate, _What are you doing, we need to keep this as close to the truth as possible if we’re not gonna plan a backstory._

“We met for the first time five years ago, but we don’t exactly count it, because I was dating… someone else, at the time. Bit of a bad boy, had a motorcycle, you know.”

“And I was dating a… doctor. Who was a model on the side, when he wasn’t saving lives,” Nick says, refusing to be one-upped. “But, uh, we ran into each other a few years later, and things just sort of— y’know, took off from there.”

“That’s sweet,” Augustine says, and Nick might be mistaken, but he thinks he sounds genuinely charmed.”

“Did you know he was the one?” his date says, and Nick takes a moment to feel bad for her. It’s never fun when your date gets arrested, but it’s especially unpleasant if you’re a particularly romantic person.

“Right away?” Nick says. “Well— no, not really right then, but I had… some idea.”

“I thought he was gonna be my sort of boring rebound,” Louis says, and Nick is vaguely offended, though he supposes anyone would be boring compared to Louis’ motorcycle-riding fictional ex. “But he’s stuck around, so.”

“How did you realize he was it for you?” she asks.

It’s probably a good thing they’re arresting her boyfriend, actually; she deserves better than to be a criminal’s arm candy. Nick hopes she finds someone who wants to give her the fairytale romance she’s having them spin for her.

“Well, he’s— y’know. He’s good looking,” Louis says. “When I look at him, I just see… his face, and it’s attached to, like, his body, and stuff, and it’s fun to look at, or whatever.”

“Right,” she says, sounding a little disappointed. She turns to Nick. “And you?”

Nick thinks that he wants to give her an answer that makes her smile, and he knows the best way to spin a convincing story is to lie as little as possible, so he just… tells the truth, as much as he can.

“He makes me laugh,” Nick says, probably sounding a little too honest, and Louis’ eyes shoot up at that, hope sparking in them almost like it’s on accident, and Nick thinks, _Louis was going to ask me out,_ and _Louis makes me laugh._

“Aw,” she says, and, apparently satisfied with that answer, she turns back to her menu and doesn’t ask them any more questions, which is good, because Nick’s not sure he could come up with any more answers when his head is all tangled up like this.

……

And then Augustine goes into the kitchen to ‘talk to the chef,’ and obviously Nick and Louis have to follow him, even though they haven’t gotten their food yet and Nick’s stomach is starting to protest.

But then he doesn’t hand over the suitcase—

And then he glances over to the door—

“Fuck,” Louis hisses, pushing Nick a little way’s down the hallway. “We’ve been caught.”

“He saw you?”

“Big time,” Louis says.

He’s looking all frantic again, but his hand is on Nick’s chest, which is making Nick think about things he absolutely does _not_ have time to be thinking about, especially since the kitchen door is starting to open.

It’s a down-to-the-millisecond kiss, but they manage to get it together before they’re spotted by Augustine emerging from the kitchen, and Nick doesn’t have time to think about how it works because Louis kisses him back immediately for more than a second, but still, it’s—

Louis is kissing him back.

Louis wanted to ask him out on a date, and now, Louis is kissing him back, and Nick doesn’t think it’s just because they’re trying to not get caught.

Nick is pretty sure that Louis just wants to kiss him.

It would be really, really nice if Nick could figure out why that realization is taking him by surprise, or at least figure out how he feels about it.

They break apart at the sound of the door swinging shut, and Nick doesn’t have to pretend to feel embarrassed at being caught. He’s genuinely flustered, and apparently so is Louis, unless he’s suddenly become a very good actor who can blush on demand.

“Sorry,” Louis says to Augustine, who doesn’t look suspicious, just vaguely amused. “We were just— we were looking for a place to—”

“Boink,” Nick says, which is a word he would literally never, ever use in a million years. The only reason he says it is because Louis had spent all of Tuesday trying to distract him by texting him strange words and making him guess whether or not they were actual euphemisms for sex he’d found online, or made-up nonsense words. ‘Boink’ had been the only one Nick guessed incorrectly.

“Right,” Louis says. “That’s the word we use for it, boink.”

Augustine puts a hand up. “Hey, I get it,” he says. “You’re a couple of newly engaged kids, it happens.”

And with that, he makes his way down the hall and back out to the restaurant, and Nick and Louis are alone again.

“Thank you for being so— professional, about that,” Nick says, even though his lips are still tingling, and he can’t stop looking at Louis’ mouth, neither of which feels particularly professional.

“Of course,” Louis says. “Great detective work, that was.”

“Right,” Nick says, and they stare awkwardly at each other for a beat, but then they both seem to remember at the same time that they’re supposed to be working the case, so they rush back to the table and don’t make eye contact with each other as they throw down some cash and run out to the van and continue trailing Augustine. Because this is a case they’re working, and not a real date, no matter what Nick’s heart is saying.

……

“You guys are being weird,” Zayn says bluntly, while they’re driving around Brooklyn, still trailing Augustine. “Spill.”

Nick and Louis share a glance, and then Louis sighs and says, “Grimmy and I kissed to throw the suspect off our trail. It’s not a big deal.”

Liam’s eyes go wide. “Wait, you—”

“It’s not a big deal,” Nick echoes, cutting him off.

Liam pouts, and Zayn snorts, and Nick can’t exactly look at Louis’ face for long enough to see his reaction without wanting to curl up into a ball and die of confusion, but he doesn’t say anything, so Nick doesn’t either.

……

Nick would prefer it if this whole thing ended, because he’s got enough of a sample size of this— like, of whatever it is he’s sampling, to take home with him and examine in solitude.

Except then they end up kissing one more time, for reasons Nick has a lot of trouble recalling later.

It’s part of the case, Nick is sure—keeping up the pre-newlyweds act—and this time, it’s Louis who kisses him, just says, “Alright, guess we’re doing this,” and before Nick has time to ask what _this_ is, he’s being tugged in for a kiss.

They don’t come up for air for a while.

Nick knows Augustine is here, he knows they’re trying to avoid being recognized and catch Augustine as off-guard as they can, and he knows that this kiss is really just a pretty ingenious way of doing both those things, but still—

It’s a kiss, and it’s a pretty good one at that, and Nick’s head can’t keep up with everything his heart is doing, let alone his body. Louis’ hands are small and soft and tangled up in his hair, and Nick can’t help but love the way they feel, and he thinks he’s enjoying this too much, but then again, he’s pretty sure he’s allowed to enjoy it, at least a little.

He’s not sure if Louis’ ‘I was going to ask you out’ revelation makes it better or worse that Nick likes this as much as he does, or if Louis is kissing him more or less intensely because of it. Either way is a bit thrilling to think about, because this is either a good real kiss, or a great pretend one; Nick isn’t actually sure where the line is between a fake kiss and a real one, if the kissing is enjoyed by both parties, but after a second, the kissing does wonders to clear his head, makes everything make sense for a second, allows him to be aware of his surroundings and eventually catch the perp handing off his laptop and make the arrest.

Louis’ face is bright red as he reads Augustine his Miranda rights, and Nick thinks, _oh, fuck._

……

The thing is: Louis _liked_ Nick.

Louis wanted to ask Nick out because he liked him, and then when Nick was kissing him and pretending to be engaged to him, he was doing all those things with someone who liked him.

And unless feelings have changed a lot since the last time Nick had them, Louis probably still likes him.

So Nick is freaking out, which is to be expected, but he’s not totally horrified at the idea of Louis liking him, which is… less expected.

Which has been the thing about all of it, ever since he realized Louis had intended to ask him out before he heard Nick talking about his no-cops dating policy: Nick hadn’t ever been upset or put-off by the idea of dating Louis, even if he maybe should have been. Louis is the worst kind of workplace romance. He’s immature and loud and grating and frustratingly good at his job, and he and Nick had hated each other until Louis realized that Nick was hilarious and incredible while Nick realized that Louis was kind of sweet sometimes. It’s a miracle that they’re even friends, and some days—if Nick is hungover or Louis forgot his tea or they’re just plain cranky—they go back to bickering at every opportunity.

Louis and Nick aren’t the kind of friends who apologize after they fight, or say things like ‘you matter to me’ and ‘I don’t know what I’d do without you.’ They pretend it’s all easy all the time, and it usually is— Nick can hear the ‘I’m sorry’ subtext when Louis buries it in a joke, can see his appreciation in his smile when he laughs, wide and bright.

They don’t know how to communicate, don’t know how to rock the boat, don’t know how to face a challenge, and Nick’s not sure he can see him and Louis dating ending with anything besides a massive blowout and many hurt feelings.

Which doesn’t explain why he’s pretty sure that, if Louis had asked him out, he would have said yes.

……

Nick walks into work the following Monday acutely aware of the fact that Louis hadn’t responded to the video of a dog befriending a racoon that he’d emailed him over the weekend, and the only thing that’s really keeping him going is that emails don’t have read receipts, so there’s a chance Louis just hadn’t opened it.

It’s a less-than-ideal way to start the week, all things considered.

Louis is running late, and he’s barely set foot in the precinct when he’s whisked away by Boyle and Gina, which Nick thinks is mildly terrifying; the two of them only ever team up to gossip, which means word of the kiss has spread around the precinct. For a moment he suspects Liam’s to blame, but then thinks better of it, and reasons that there’s about an 80% chance it’s Zayn’s fault.

Nick really wishes he had the type of job he could call in sick for. He is actually feeling nauseous, but it’s mostly due to the butterflies in his stomach.

He’s never, ever, in his whole entire life, been this messed up about someone, _ever._

“Hey,” Harry says, loud enough for everyone to hear, but enough of a whisper to make it clear that this is gonna be a conversation about private matters. “What happened with you and Lou?”

Oh for fuck’s sake— “We caught Augustine as he was making the handoff, made the arrest, did the paperwork.”

“But Zayn says—”

“Zayn can shut his big mouth,” Nick says. “I really don’t want to talk about it.”

Harry is quiet for a second, furrows his brow, then nods towards the evidence room. “What if I told you I needed a favor? A work favor?”

Nick knows for a fact that Harry doesn’t need a work favor. “Can we just—”

“It’ll only be a second,” Harry says, and he gives Nick a solemn look, one that reminds him that, while Harry may love gossip, he loves Nick and Louis more.

“Fine,” Nick relents, standing up, and he hopes beyond hope that this conversation is quick and relatively painless.

Except that doesn’t happen, because as soon as Nick sets foot in the evidence room, he realizes they’re not alone, and when he turns around to leave, Harry’s barricading the door.

Nick turns back around and sees Gina and Boyle actually flanking Louis, who’s looking at his feet, a mutinous expression peeking out from under his hair.

“Did you bring me here to get more info? Because Louis wouldn’t talk?” Nick asks, a bit bewildered.

“Au contraire,” Boyle says, arms crossed. “He talked all too easily.”

“Went on and on about how your breath was when we asked about the capital-K Kissing, T-M-emoji,” Gina says.

“Hey,” Nick says, because he sort of prides himself on his excellent dental hygiene, and refuses to let his reputation be destroyed by someone who steals eight sticks of gum a day from him. “My breath was fine, thank you very much.”

“It wasn’t just the breath,” Louis grumbles, and glares at everyone in the room without meeting Nick’s eye, which is pretty impressive, in Nick’s opinion.

“Gina and I may be gossips, but we will not let the Boyle name be marred by slander,” Boyle says. “So I texted Harry to corroborate the story, and he informed me that you’re a fine kisser—”

“I’ve never kissed Harry,” Nick says, even though he’s only about 80% sure that’s true.

“Nicholas,” Harry says, sounding almost offended. “We’ve shared sloppy seconds so many times—”

“And what, you ask about me?” Nick says.

“Maybe.”

“Why would you—”

“Curiosity, competitive instinct, who knows,” Harry says. “This isn’t about my issues, it’s about yours.”

“I thought it was about Louis’,” Nick says.

“It’s actually about me,” Gina says, “But I’m being generous enough to share the spotlight with both of you, because you both fucked _up_ this weekend.”

“I’m not the one who fucked up,” Louis says, looking a little fed up. “Grimmy’s the one who sprung an engagement on me—”

“I apologized,” Nick says.

“That was before.”

“Before what?”

“Before you kissed me, and, like, spent the rest of the night messing with my head,” Louis says.

Nick doesn’t know how to say, _if I was messing with your head, I was messing with my own ten times over_. “So you decided the best way to deal with it was spreading rumors, then?”

“That’s what people do when they’re pissed off, yeah? Get a little mean, have a bit of a laugh, and move past it,” Louis says. “Figured it’d be better letting everyone think you were a shit kisser than to let everyone know that you’re actually the kind of dickhead who would turn someone down then spend an entire evening pretending to date them.”

The room is quiet for a beat, before Harry clears his throat. “Looks like we got to the bottom of this one, then.”

“I didn’t—” Nick starts, but his voice falters, because he’s not sure what he can say to that. _I didn’t turn you down?_ It’s technically true, but not the most helpful thing to say, especially not in the middle of an intervention. This isn’t the kind of thing Nick can answer for; all he knows is how he feels, what he wanted in the moment, what it was like when people looked at him and Louis and thought they were in love.

“So,” Gina says, cutting off Nick’s train of thought. “It looks like we’ve gone from hot gossip into what I like to call ‘feelings territory,’ and that’s not a really fun position for me to be in, so I’m just gonna go send out an email to the entire department telling them y’all are a mess. You might wanna subscribe to my mailing list, by the way— it’s called Gossip Gina, but the g’s are 9’s, and yes, I know, I’m an innovator.”

“Clever,” Harry confirms, nodding as he follows her out of the evidence room, Boyle following quickly behind.

Nick’s not really sure what just happened, and now he’s alone with Louis, who’s still looking at the ground, almost huffy, Nick thinks.

“So, were you ever planning to tell me you’re apparently furious with me?” Nick asks.

“No,” Louis says. “I figured I’d just get it out of my system with a stupid rumor and go back to bothering you like normal.”

“That’s… a pretty decent plan,” Nick says.

“And I would’ve gotten away with it too,” Louis deadpans. “But cat’s out of the bag, I guess, you’re a selfish dickhead, and I’m mad at you.”

“I didn’t mean to—” Nick starts, but Louis is shaking his head and cutting him off before he gets a chance to finish the sentence.

“I know you didn’t mean to,” he says. “That’s why I didn’t want to tell you in the first place, I just— it doesn’t change that I’m really fucking mad, okay? You knew I was trying to get over you, and you went and fucked with my head and made it seem, like, real, yeah? And that’s fucked up, because— I don’t really need to explain why, I guess.”

“Yeah,” Nick says, kind of absently, because he’s mostly focused on the way Louis’ cheeks are all red and flushed, which is fun to look at under normal circumstances, and impossible to look away from right now, when Nick’s heart is beating all fast and weirdly hopeful.

“I wish you’d been a terrible kisser,” Louis says. “Like, if your breath was shit, and you were all awkward or slobbery or something. That’d be fucking great for me.”

“I’m… sorry?” Nick says.

Louis shrugs. “I mean, don’t let it get to your head or anything. It wasn’t, like, perfect.”

“Why not?” Nick asks.

Louis glances up at him, skeptical. “Uh, I dunno. You’re too tall, for starters.”

“And what else?” Nick asks.

Louis examines Nick cautiously for a beat before he says, “What, are you asking for feedback, or something?”

“Sort of?” Nick says, and before Louis’ face has a chance to settle into a reaction, he adds, “I think we should kiss again.”

Louis’ eyes go wide, and his expression does about a million things at once before he just sort of sputters and goes, “Excuse me?”

“What?” Nick says, his voice managing to sound a lot calmer than he feels. “I think we should.”

“Why do you think we—”

“Well, you clearly liked it, and so did I,” Nick says. “I can bend down.”

“What?”

“To fix the too-tall thing,” Nick says.

“But that’s—” Louis shakes his head, like he’s trying to clear his thoughts. “That’s not the biggest problem here.”

“I know,” Nick says, giving Louis what he hopes is an apologetic sort of grimace. “I still kind of want to. Really want to, if I’m being honest.”

Louis blinks. “You do realize this is an awful idea.”

Nick is very aware of that, actually, but all he does is shrug and look at Louis, eyebrows up, half offering, half pleading.

“Right, then,” Louis says, nodding, and then he’s moving towards Nick and Nick is moving towards him, and then they’re kissing, hard and fast, and Nick hadn’t even realized how much pent-up desire he’s been holding on to until now, and it’s all coming out at once.

God, Louis just— he feels so _good,_ fits well in Nick’s arms and pressed up against him, and they do the give and take of this so well, pushing and pulling and tugging and grabbing and giving in equal measure. It’s messy, and it’s stupid, and it may be the single most unprofessional thing Nick has ever done on the job, but he doesn’t care, because it’s _Louis,_ and that’s the thing that matters most.

“You’re not allowed to be a fucking dickhead about this,” Louis says between kisses, and Nick’s not sure exactly what he means by that, but he nods anyway, just a quick jerky bob of his head before his mouth is pressed against Louis’ once more.

……

 **_From:_ ** _Louis Tomlinson_

 **_To:_ ** _Nick Grimshaw_

 **_Subject:_ ** _RE: ur the raccoon?_

_i angrily watched this video about 90 times yesterday just so you know_

**_From:_ ** _Nick Grimshaw_

 **_To:_ ** _Louis Tomlinson_

 **_Subject:_ ** _RE: RE: ur the raccoon?_

_and it didn’t cheer u up? weird. maybe watch it again, seems like ur in a better mood_

**_From:_ ** _Louis Tomlinson_

 **_To:_ ** _Nick Grimshaw_

 **_Subject:_ ** _RE: RE: RE: ur the raccoon?_

_cant watch it at work, thats so unprofessional ! what do u take me for nicholas_

_come by and watch it with me later tonight?_

**_From:_ ** _Nick Grimshaw_

 **_To:_ ** _Louis Tomlinson_

 **_Subject:_ ** _too many re:_

_since when are you so concerned with professionalism, tomlinson?_

**_From:_ ** _Louis Tomlinson_

 **_To:_ ** _Nick Grimshaw_

 **_Subject:_ ** _not enough re: RE: too many re:_

_that’s a no, then?_

**_From:_ ** _Nick Grimshaw_

 **_To:_ ** _Louis Tomlinson_

 **_Subject:_ ** _this is getting confusing_

_what time should i come by?_

**_From:_ ** _Louis Tomlinson_

 **_To:_ ** _Nick Grimshaw_

 **_Subject:_ ** _RE: this is getting confusing_

_6:30?_

**_From:_ ** _Nick Grimshaw_

 **_To:_ ** _Louis Tomlinson_

 **_Subject:_ ** _:)_

_works for me_

**_From:_ ** _Louis Tomlinson_

 **_To:_ ** _Nick Grimshaw_

 **_Subject:_ ** _RE: :)_

_:)_

_see you then x_

……

Nick isn’t exactly sure why he’s disappointed that he and Louis don’t manage to leave Louis’ apartment that evening, because it’s not like they don’t manage to have plenty of fun there. Ordering a pizza then having sex on every available surface of Louis’ apartment is pretty much Nick’s ideal first date, even if he and Louis take an hour to decide where they’re going to order pizza from, and Louis ends up distracting Nick with a blowjob, stealing his phone from his pants pocket, and locking himself in the bathroom to call in the order.

The pizza ends up being fine—or, actually, it’s great, but Nick will never admit that to Louis’ face—and the whole date is pretty much a rousing success, but—

Nick’s not actually sure it was a proper _date,_ is all. 

For all Nick has plenty of experience with men, he doesn’t have a lot of experience with actual dating. Not the kind where you leave someone and actually agree to see them again, not even out of politeness, but because you _want_ to.

In theory, this should be fine, because Nick already knows that Louis wants to date him right back.

Maybe.

Nick tells himself, in the ten minutes between his arrival at work and Louis’, that if Louis had intended to ask him out—because that was the way Louis phrased it, not just that he had abstract feelings, but actually intended to _ask him out—_ then last night was just a stay-in date, not just an ambiguous hook-up. Nick had even stayed the night, and kissed Louis goodbye as they left to make their staggered entrances into the precinct, and Louis had said something about meeting up in the evidence room again—

But they hadn’t actually called it a date. Louis hasn’t looked him in the eye and said, ‘Nick Grimshaw, I would like to date you in a serious way, because I enjoyed pretending to date you and also enjoyed having sex with you,’ so there’s the smallest bit of ambiguity there.

“Grimshaw,” a low voice says, and when Nick looks up, he sees Rosa standing over his desk, eyebrow arched. “You look like you’re feeling things. It’s weird.”

“How does someone look like they’re feeling?” Nick asks.

“You’re worried. Jumpy.” She crinkles her nose. _“Happy._ Stop it, it looks weird on you.”

“I can’t—”

“You got laid last night,” she says bluntly.

Nick feels his face turn an impressive shade of red. “How could you possibly know that?”

“I’m a detective, Grimshaw.”

“So am I,” he says, a little defensive. “I can’t tell if people had sex just by looking at them.”

“Then you should sharpen your detective skills,” Rosa says.

Their conversation is interrupted by the elevator door opening and Louis walking out, looking just as good as he had when Nick left him, if a little more put-together. He’s rushing a bit, probably because it’s a few minutes after nine and Louis hates it when Holt gives him the ‘I’m disappointed in your tardiness’ treatment, but Louis manages to make running late look good, like he’s a Ferris Bueller, Marty McFly-type, the kind of guy who slides down railings and makes shortcuts look like an art form.

Nick’s so distracted by the way Louis’ cheeks are only just-barely pink that he almost doesn’t hear Rosa say, “Huh, guess he also got laid last night.”

Nick sputters. “Wh— why are you— what’s that got to do with anything?”

Rosa looks at Nick for a beat, her face something between neutral and unimpressed, but then she smirks. “Seriously?”

“I— shut up,” he huffs, turning back to read a file on his desk and opening a blank manila folder instead.

“Nice,” she says, holding out her hand for a fist bump that Nick grumpily returns.

Louis sits at the desk across from Nick, gives him a weird, lingering, downright _sappy_ smile, the kind of thing that Nick can’t help but return. “Morning, mates,” he says cheerfully, not tearing his eyes off of Nick.

“Yeah it is,” Rosa says, clapping Louis on the shoulder before she wanders off, and Nick is more than happy to get a few minutes of alone time where he and Louis can just gaze into each other’s eyes, but he can’t help but regret a little bit not asking her if she’d seen any feelings on Louis also, if those feelings were the same as Nick’s, if she’d seen any sign of them before this morning.

Maybe Nick and Louis should have— just one more conversation, to make sure they’re on the same page. Once they’ve sorted out who they’re telling, and what they’re telling them, and when they’ll tell them the things they want to tell— then Nick will feel better, hopefully.

Or, he’ll feel _even_ better, he should say, because Louis is still smiling at him right now, and it really is quite nice.

…… 

As it turns out, getting a moment alone with Louis is difficult, and talking is even harder.

Nick really doesn’t think this is going to be a very stressful conversation, really. It’s just that whenever he and Louis have a spare moment away from the prying eyes of coworkers, it’s much more fun to make out. Making out doesn’t make Nick’s heart get stuck in his throat, and doesn’t make Nick’s palms sweat, and doesn’t make his heart beat fast in the bad sort of way. It’s not like they have a lot of breaks over the course of the day anyway, so really, Nick’s just trying to be efficient about things. No use wasting time on a conversation they won’t be able to finish when they could instead be enjoying themselves, and all that.

But then the end of the day comes, and Nick suddenly realizes that he’s going to have all the time in the world to talk to Louis, which—

It feels _wrong,_ insofar as, Nick is a busy person, and can’t shake the feeling that he has something he can do instead of talking to Louis about his feelings.

Or, rather, something he _has_ to do instead of talking to Louis about his feelings. He’s not looking for an excuse; he just knows that one ought to be presenting itself to him right now, based on how his life has worked out thus far.

So Nick is looking for Louis to tell him as much, except then he realizes that Louis is just… gone.

And it’s not like Nick wasn’t tempted to do the very same thing, but, at the same time, he _didn’t,_ and quite frankly, this just feels rude.

It does end up solving a problem for Nick, though, because he can drag himself to Louis’ apartment if he pretends he just needs to tell Louis off.

Except then Louis isn’t at his apartment, or the bodega on the corner, and then he doesn’t answer Nick’s text, and then he’s not at Starbucks, then still not at his apartment when Nick checks again.

A part of Nick starts to worry that Louis is in, like, actual danger, but he knows that’s probably not the case. For all the things Nick really likes and really respects about Louis Tomlinson, he also knows he has his flaws, and a tendency to run away when he gets scared is one of them.

He also knows that—and this is one of the things that it took him the longest to catch on to, because the ways in which he and Louis Tomlinson differ have always been obvious, so it was weird to have been surprised by this one—more often than not, Louis wants someone to chase after him.

Of course Nick does eventually find him, and of course it’s in the most dramatic place possible, which is the roof of the fucking precinct.

It’s excessive, but Nick isn’t gonna pretend he doesn’t appreciate the theatrics.

“Oi, Tomlinson,” Nick yells, and Louis turns around from where he’s sitting on the ground, back propped up against a low half-wall. His elbows are resting on top of it, and his head is thrown back a little, and Nick swears he can see how long Louis’ eyelashes are, even from across the roof. He probably can’t actually, but he’s been close enough to Louis’ face enough times that he knows it’s true.

“Hey there,” Louis calls, a transparently forced casualness in his tone. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“You know me, always love a good sunset picture. Really helps me enrich my social media presence.” They haven’t spent that much time here, but every time, they’ve done this same bit— pretending this is a perfectly normal place for a conversation. Nick can work with that pretty well, thankfully.

“Of course,” Louis says, nodding. Nick’s standing over him now, but Louis doesn’t make any effort to stand up. “‘s why I’m here too, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Nick echoes. He kicks lightly at the space next to Louis. “Anyone sitting here?”

“It’s all yours,” Louis says. He shifts slightly, and Nick opts to sit on the wall instead, because sitting side by side is too close and too far at the same time. Nick wants to look at Louis when they talk, just— not right in the eye. He thinks the top of his head is a good compromise.

Nick doesn’t say anything for a few minutes, though, just takes in the feeling of Louis’s side brushing up against his, which slowly turns into Louis leaning into him. Nick takes a deep breath and wills his body to not do anything that might accidentally give Louis the impression that Nick wants him to stop, and in the meantime, he looks at the way the sky is streaked with color. He’s pretty sure the sunset only looks like this because of air pollution, or something, but it’s just— it’s too pretty for him to really care.

When he looks down at Louis, his hair looks soft and shiny, and Nick wants to run his fingers through it.

“So,” Nick says. “It’s probably good that I ran into you here.”

Louis doesn’t move to look at him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Nick says. “Because, you know, I was hoping we could maybe get a chance to spend some time together, or something. If you want, I mean.”

“Well, that depends on what you had in mind, now, doesn’t it,” Louis says, inscrutable as ever.

Nick gets why, he thinks.

“Well, dinner does sound nice, but it’s probably too late for us to get a reservation anywhere decent.”

“We could just do what we did Friday,” Louis says. “Pretend to have just gotten engaged, see if they can squeeze us in.”

Nick huffs out a laugh. “Suppose we could,” he says. “Might be a bit awkward for a first date, though.”

Louis is silent for a long time after that, and Nick’s heart is definitely about to beat out of his chest, but he waits, and he waits, and he waits.

Finally, after a silence that probably lasts somewhere close to a million years, Louis says, “Thought you didn’t date cops.”

Nick takes a breath. “I mean, not most cops,” he says, palms sweating. “Just the ones I like, which is really just you, so.”

“Fair enough,” Louis says, and Nick can see that the corners of his mouth are lifted ever so slightly.

“Just to be clear,” Nick says, “I want to take you out properly, on a real date.”

“I’d like that,” Louis says, and then, after a second’s hesitation, “I know us working together complicates things, but I do think we could be really good.”

“I do too.”

“I just need you to know that I’m sort of— serious about this, yeah? And if you’re not, then we probably shouldn’t…” his voice trails off. “I guess, we probably just. Shouldn’t.”

“Alright,” Nick says, his voice kind of gentle. It’s easier than he would expect to say, “I’m serious about this, too.”

Louis looks up at him, smiles, and then repositions his head so that it’s resting fully on Nick’s knee, and Nick runs a hand through his hair, knowing it’s every bit as soft as it looks. It was only a few hours ago that he was frantic to get his hands all over Louis, but things have reset a little now, and everything’s more fragile, more cautious.

“So,” Nick says. “Dinner?”

“In a bit,” Louis says. He turns a little bit, just enough to presses a soft, stupid kiss to Nick’s knee, then settles back in against Nick. He feels so relaxed, suddenly; Nick doesn’t blame him for not wanting to move.

“The sunset really is pretty,” Nick says, even though he’s not even pretending to look at the sky.

“Bet I can name something prettier.”

“Is it the full bullpen?”

“Maybe.”

Nick rolls his eyes, and it probably would look unfortunately fond, if anyone could see. “I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t try to kill this moment, thanks.”

“‘I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t try to kill this moment, thanks’, title of your sex tape,” Louis says, grinning all mischievous, as if to remind Nick why it’s taken him years and years to consider the possibility that they could be good together.

“Title of _our_ sex tape now, love,” Nick says, and Louis laughs at that, too raucous in the serene of the early evening, and it’s—

Well, it’s absolutely perfect, if Nick’s being honest.

**Author's Note:**

> *cue 30k spinoff series that's just harry styles and gina linetti co-hosting a podcast*


End file.
